The Prince and the Prisoner
by LadyClassical
Summary: Severus Snape has invented Everlasting Polyjuice Potion, which lasts until you take the antidote. After an argument with Sirius, the two nemeses decide to switch places using the potion, from August until Christmas! During this swapping of lives, will they learn to understand each other? Or was this a VERY BAD IDEA? And where does Harry fit into it all? OOTP AU, background HP/HG.
1. Snape's Idea

_#12 Grimmauld Place, London, 1995_

August had begun not so long ago, and Sirius Black had been stuck inside his old childhood home for a month now. It was majorly depressing, but he was cheered up slightly by the fact that Harry would be arriving tonight. They were preparing the Advance Guard now. Sirius wanted to be one of the Advance Guard, but of course that wasn't possible.

Sirius's mood was dampened just a little when he saw that Snape had come to give another report. Snape never stayed for meals, which Sirius appreciated. But Sirius tried to stay out of his way because Snape liked to needle him about his situation. It was rather like picking open a wound that had finally scabbed over, leaving it to bleed afresh…and then rubbing salt into it. But that wound, although it might scab, would never heal completely.

Speaking of wounds…Sirius felt guilty every time he looked at the actual, physical wounds left by Hedwig, Harry's owl. Harry had told her to peck him, Ron and Hermione until they wrote him decent letters—or, at least, that was what Sirius assumed. Being pecked by Hedwig was quite painful, but instead of making him angry at Harry, it just made Sirius wish he _could_ write long letters.

Sirius was in the basement kitchen, examining his peck-wounds, when Snape walked in, alone; apparently he wanted a bite to eat before he left. Sirius glared at him, but didn't say anything. Snape was not so silent.

"How's the cleaning going?" he sneered.

"Mind your own business," Sirius snapped, scowling at him. "What are you going to eat? I'd suggest bacon—there's enough grease in your hair to cook a fair few slices."

"Reducing ourselves to petty insults, are we?" Snape's tone was still smug as he rummaged in the cabinets for food, passing over the bolted-shut ones.

"That's not a petty insult," said Sirius. "It's fact."

"Well, if we're talking appearances," said Snape, "I'm actually quite surprised you don't look more like the pig you are—considering how you spend your days sitting around like a potted plant, only less useful. Enjoying it, are you?"

"No, I'm NOT!" Sirius shouted, then paused. "Look…why are we fighting, anyway?"

"Um, because we hate each other?" said Snape, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, but we're both miserable, aren't we?" said Sirius, putting his elbows on the table and sighing. "If you lived here, you would understand! You may have found a way to pay your dues, but it's not so easy for me to do the same."

"Fine," said Snape silkily. "If you think my life is so easy, _you_ try living it."

"What do you mean?" Sirius demanded. "How could I possibly do that?"

"I've invented a new potion," Snape told him proudly. "Or at least improved an old one. It's called Everlasting Polyjuice Potion. Instead of wearing off after an hour, which is highly inconvenient, I've modified it so that you can stay in disguise for as long as you want, and you transform back by taking an antidote. I carry a vial of it around with me, just in case I need it. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

"Oh…I gotcha," said Sirius, and he couldn't help grinning. This probably wasn't a good idea, but it was better than being bored, and even Sirius himself would admit that he didn't really make good choices when it came to this sort of thing. So he agreed. Snape sneered again.

Snape poured the Everlasting Polyjuice Potion into two goblets. Snape explained that they could use anything with DNA, even spit, but they decided on the standard—hair. Sirius put his hair in one; it turned a sort of acid red. Snape did the same, and his turned the darkest black. Before they drank their potions, they set some "ground rules".

"We can switch back during the Christmas Holidays," said Snape. "I will provide the antidote then. But between then and now, we have to act _exactly_ like each other. No one must know."

"When Harry comes tonight, you'll have to be nice to him," said Sirius, crossing his arms. "You have to call him by his first name, too."

"Well, you won't get to be so nice, and you have to call him by his last name," Snape said in reply. "By the way…when you get to my house, make sure you study Occlumency. There are books about it in my library. For if Dumbledore sends you on a mission, and the Dark Lord uses his Legilimency skills to find out that you are an imposter, you _will_ be killed."

"I'll do it," said Sirius, knowing that he _couldn't_ die…he couldn't die as long as Harry needed him. So he promised himself he would study Occlumency like he had never studied anything before. "For your part, remember that you're Public Enemy Number One, so you need to stay in here and not get yourself seen, or you'll receive the Kiss. That's what they're ordered to do if they find me. Now…do we trade wands or no?"

"We are taking on each other's appearances, not turning _into_ each other," Snape told him. "Therefore, the wands will stay with their true masters."

"Very well, then," said Sirius. "Uhh…what about clothes? We can't be wearing each other's clothes when we transform. They won't fit."

"Hmm…" Snape was thinking. "Have you got a dressing gown?"

"Yes."

"Okay, you go change into that and give me your robes," said Snape. "I'll go transform in the nearest bathroom and once I look like you and have your robes on, I'll give you mine, and you can go change in your room."

Sirius's bedroom was on the very top floor, and the manor was many, many stories high, so he Apparated there to save time. Before long he had changed into his dressing gown and came back downstairs again with a _crack_ , holding his robes in his arms.

"All of my robes are in my room on the top floor in the wardrobe," he said. "So you can wear them…you know, when you're me and I'm you. I assume your clothes are at your place?"

"Well, they are now," Snape told him. "But when you go to Hogwarts in less than a month, you have to pack everything."

"Naturally," said Sirius. "Okay…so go take the potion and turn into me, and when you get back give me your robes so I can take the potion and turn into you."


	2. Transformation

Snape closed the door to one of the bathrooms on the ground floor, holding the goblet with the acid-red Everlasting Polyjuice Potion in it. To be honest, he was quite nervous, but excited too. He placed Sirius's steely gray robes on the sink, leaving his own black robes on the floor, and prepared to take the potion. This was it…

Essence of Sirius. Snape winced and poured it down his throat. It tasted like strawberries.

As soon as the goblet had been swallowed, Snape felt the effects that of course he knew were coming, even though he had never used this potion before. Since he knew what the effects were going to be, he was better prepared, but he was afraid to look in the mirror…

Snape's hands were soon thin and clawlike; in fact, all of him felt suddenly very, very thin. He felt a strange jumping sensation in his stomach as he noticed his Dark Mark fade away into nothing, although strange scabs did appear on his right hand, almost as if something had attacked that hand. He gasped as he shot up in height; his shoulders broadened; in fact, he felt like his body was becoming more well-built and sturdy, less reedy, but again so _thin_ , almost like a skeleton. He could see his own ribs. Well, Sirius's ribs, that is. His head felt extremely light—he wondered why, until he realized it was because there was no grease in his hair. His chin felt a little itchy as he obtained Sirius's stubble, proof of the fact that he couldn't be bothered to pick up a razor more than three or four times a week. Finally, he picked the gray robes off the sink and slipped them over his head. When he put on the loose robes, his thinness wasn't so conspicuous.

There he was, in exact likeness: Severus Snape, disguised as Sirius Black, and he would be that way until he took the antidote.

Snape crept out of the bathroom. Walking in a new body felt weird; he still had his prowling walk, but it looked strange with this different build. It wasn't long before he located Sirius in the foyer, wearing a midnight-blue wool dressing gown.

"Woah," said Sirius. "Freaky."

Snape just rolled his eyes and shoved his robes into Sirius's hands. "Hurry, take the potion before anyone notices us."

…

When Sirius got to his room he threw his dressing gown onto the bed and downed Essence of Snape in one gulp. It tasted exactly like dark chocolate. Sirius had never liked dark chocolate, but that was what it tasted like.

The effects of the potion were not pleasant. Sirius wondered for a moment if he was going to throw up, but then he felt a hot, burning sensation from his stomach to his feet—but that wasn't the weird part. Sirius shrunk slightly in height; he became less thin and he was appalled to see the Dark Mark form on his right arm. His chin turned from rough and stubbly to smooth; he still felt like he was shrinking slightly (except in the nose department), taking on Snape's batlike form. His hair felt _disgusting_ —he would need to do damage control right away as soon as he got to Snape's house. It felt like he was wearing a hat made of grease. When everything was finished, he put the black robes on, and stared at himself in his bedroom mirror. Snape stared back at him.

Freaky, indeed.

Sirius sighed and Apparated downstairs, where the real Snape was waiting for him. Snape-as-Sirius didn't look shocked, but he did raise one eyebrow.

"Stop crouching," said Sirius. "You've got to stand up straight if you want to look like me."

Snape-as-Sirius straightened his back, and Sirius-as-Snape hunched his slightly.

"Better?" said Snape-as-Sirius dryly.

"Sure, but you may need some time to perfect this," said Sirius-as-Snape, who then strutted across the room with his hip-swaggering gait, which Snape had seen him do a lot in school, except this time he was seeing _himself_ doing it, and…well…Snape had always wanted to be able to do that walk, and now here he was, doing it. Sort of.

"You need to smile less," Snape snapped.

Sirius grinned obnoxiously; Snape scowled.

"Here's my address," said Snape, conjuring a piece of paper and writing supplies. When his address was written down, he handed it to Sirius. "Don't forget to study Occlumency and _act like me_. Here, now go Apparate there."

"Thanks, Sirius," said Sirius gaily, "but I think I'll walk."


	3. Grimmauld Place, Spinner's End

Snape watched Sirius run out the door, laughing maniacally, and he rolled his eyes. How immature! Well, he always had been…Snape figured Sirius could be as immature as he wanted. Meanwhile, Snape was going to explore the manor.

The first thing the Potions Master noticed was that there were a _lot_ of Dark objects. In fact, a person without a brain could see that this manor had belonged to generations of Dark wizards. In the drawing room, Snape found a coil of rope hanging on the wall; underneath it there was a note, in Sirius's handwriting: _Please do not touch. This rope strangles anyone who is not a pureblood._

Better not touch it, indeed. Snape looked like Sirius, but he knew that he was still Severus Snape, a half-blood—someone the rope would strangle.

Instead, Snape went to look at all the other Dark objects on display in the drawing room. They were in glass cabinets, displayed as if they were the family's most valuable possessions. Maybe they were. As he looked around, Snape felt a sensation he had not felt in a very long time—the strange fascination and excitement he felt every time he was around anything to do with Dark Magic. This house was teeming with Dark Magic, and Snape was actually quite taken with it.

After exploring the drawing room, Snape headed upstairs to the very top floor, where he would be sleeping. Or, as he thought when he entered the room, where he would _not_ be sleeping. Sirius's room was full of pictures of the Marauders, a shrine to Gryffindor, and barely clothed Muggle women. There was a stash of old porn magazines dating back to the seventies by the bedside. Snape scowled and left for the room next to it.

Ah…much better!

 _Why did I never become friends with Regulus?_ Snape wondered as he looked around the room. Slytherin House Pride was everywhere, along with the Black family crest and motto. The room reflected mass amounts of spoilage—the bed was soft and cushy when Snape lay down; the room was large and airy with three windows. Was this the room Snape would have had, he wondered, if his parents had been able to afford it?

In fact…how Snape wished he could have had Sirius's childhood. Parents who loved each other! Never worrying about money! Parents who were a witch and wizard! An environment where Dark Magic was accepted, even encouraged! Another child in the house to keep him company! Even a house-elf!

Snape crossed his arms behind his head and thought, _I think I'm going to like this_.

…

Sirius ran outside, relishing the fact that Severus Snape was not a wanted man. There was no 10,000 Galleon reward on his head. The dementors were not under any orders to administer the Kiss to Severus Snape. And now that Sirius looked like Severus Snape…

 _I am a free man_.

At that moment Sirius didn't care what people thought of him. He beamed up at the sun, which beamed right back down at him; he looked all around him, looking at birds, people, _everything_. From now until Christmas, nobody would be persecuting him. Free, finally free, for the first time in fourteen years. Free.

Sirius loved everything about outside at that moment, even rain and thunder and lightning and stinging insects. Everything in the outside world! He smiled at every stranger he saw, although he only got strange looks in return.

Sirius ended up needing to Apparate in the end, since Snape lived all the way in Cokeworth. Spinner's End looked like a dodgy place, Sirius thought. Snape had given him the keys to the house, and as soon as he opened the door, it was clear to see that Snape only lived here two months out of the year. The drawing room was full of books—Sirius made a mental note to start studying Occlumency later. It was very small and dark in there. None of the doors were really visible, but there was some threadbare furniture. Sirius sat down on the couch and looked around at the books, thinking of whether he might find the door to the kitchen and make a snack, but then he got an idea.

It was childish, he knew, but he ran around the foyer, shouting at the top of his voice, and yet…nothing woke up. There were no portraits! No screaming! No elf heads, no Dark objects, no doxy-filled curtains, no family tapestry, no Kreacher, no _nothing!_ This house was smaller, but Sirius didn't care how big his inherited house was—terrible, terrible things had happened behind that hidden door, and he was glad to be free.

Snape's house was two stories, and Sirius found the door to the upstairs after some hunting. The first thing he did was head to the shower, because he couldn't stand this greasy mop much longer. He had brought his bag of toiletries with him, including all his hair potions and gel. It was amazing that even though Snape was the Potions Master, he didn't know the right potions to take care of his hair.

The shower water was ice-cold. Sirius thought hot water was probably too much to expect at a place like this, but he had lived in much worse conditions than this. At least he got to take a shower at all. Speaking of that…as Sirius wet his hair under the faucet, he turned his chin up and kept his eyes on the ceiling, _nowhere_ else. This was the part of swapping that he had _not_ been looking forward to. Sure, that part of him—that part of Snape—would have to be washed soon, and that would be a dreadful experience indeed, but he was focusing on his hair this time.

It didn't really matter that the water was cold. Getting the grease out just felt so darn good. Sirius used all the hair potions he would need, using three heavy-duty grease removers and then some other potions to keep things soft, strong, smooth, shiny and easy to comb.

Sirius stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, then pressed his wand to his temple, drying his hair instantly. Now all he needed to do was comb. So he grabbed one, but when he looked in the mirror, he was shocked.

Snape didn't actually have that bad of hair; he just didn't take good care of it. Sirius wouldn't say Snape's hair was quite as luxurious as his, but he had to admit, there really was nothing wrong with Snape's hair if it was washed and combed correctly. Sirius ran the comb through Snape's hair, noting how soft it had become—those hair potions of his were miracle workers. His head also felt a lot lighter again, now that the grease was gone. Finally, Sirius put just the right amount of gel in Snape's hair and grinned at himself in the mirror. Okay, Snape still wasn't exactly a hunk. But a smile and good hair care made an enormous difference.

The bed upstairs was very simple—just a brass bedstead with a mattress, a pillow, and one thin blanket. Sirius dived down onto the bed and stared out the one grimy window at Spinner's End. It wasn't exactly picturesque. But still…Sirius found himself wishing he could have had a childhood more like _this_ one. Parents who didn't hate him! No pure-blood mania—in fact, a Muggle parent! No Dark rituals or animal sacrifices or Knockturn Alley runs or private tutor or Sacred 28 "playdates" or awkward, snarling family photo shoots! No siblings to constantly outshine him! No irritating house-elf! Best of all, the opportunity to roam as he pleased, to make his own friends! Of course, Sirius knew Snape's family hadn't had a lot of money, but if there was one thing he had learned from his childhood, it was that gold couldn't buy you happiness. Being a member of the aristocracy was miserable and boring, and as far as he was concerned, his family had never had anything valuable at all.

Sirius settled down for a nap, and he was awakened around evening by an owl tapping on the window. It was telling him that he needed to go back to HQ for a meeting tonight.

Well, of course he'd go. But he wouldn't stay.


	4. Dinner with the Order

Snape spent a few more hours exploring #12 Grimmauld Place, looking at all the Dark objects, and then took a nap in Regulus's bed. He awoke around evening to the sound of Mrs. Weasley calling Sirius's name. It took a bit for him to wake up and realize that he was the one who had to answer.

"Yes?" he groaned.

"Come down here!" she hollered. "We're having an Order meeting!"

Snape rolled out of bed and Apparated downstairs. He was surprised to find that Sirius-as-himself was there as well—apparently they had called in every Order member. The real Sirius avoided Snape's eyes, but Snape did a double take when he saw himself…or, more specifically, his _hair_.

Never had he seen it look like that. It was shiny, but not with grease. It looked soft and grease-free and perhaps even _gelled_. Snape realized his mouth was open in shock, but he wasn't the only one. In fact, a lot of people were complimenting Sirius-as-Snape on his hair.

"Why, Severus, what have you done with your hair?" said Mrs. Weasley. "It looks so nice."

The corners of Sirius-as-Snape's mouth twitched, but he said, "I thought I'd try something new."

Most of the meeting, however, was not devoted to this sort of thing. They discussed their plans for the Order, as usual; Mundungus Fletcher fell asleep. Snape knew that Sirius was going to leave after this, because the real Snape never ate at #12 Grimmauld Place.

Finally, the meeting ended. Everyone was just wrapping things up when they heard a crash in the hallway, then horrible screaming from not one portrait but all of the ones in the hall…what _was_ that?!

Snape shrugged and let the others deal with it. Instead, he walked to Sirius-as-Snape.

"What have you done with your—with my hair?!" he choked.

"Um, I _washed_ it," said Sirius-as-Snape, rolling his eyes. "I couldn't stand having that horrible grease in my hair for one more second. Honestly, how are you the Potions Master and yet you know _nothing_ about hair potions? You know how many grease-removers I had to use? _Three_."

"Have you ever considered that I was never as vain as you are?" said Snape-as-Sirius, crossing his arms (although he wished just a tiny bit that he knew what Sirius had actually done to his hair to make it look like that).

"Vain," Sirius-as-Snape scoffed. How silly! All he was doing was looking the best he could. Snape should be thanking him!

As he left his family's old manor, Sirius-as-Snape noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione leaning over the banister. Harry was staring at him; he wondered if his godson was wondering what Snape was doing for the Order, or if he was just shocked, like everyone else, that the signature hair grease was gone. He fought the impulse to wave to Harry as he left the manor.

Meanwhile, Snape-as-Sirius was (of course) among the Order members who were staying for dinner. Many of them did. Upon leaving the kitchen, he bumped into Harry, and as he did, he heard the screeching of one of the owls from somewhere upstairs…and then the wounds on his right hand made sense. Insolent boy!

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape demanded, shoving his hand under Harry's nose. It was jarring to hear the words not in the venomous hiss he had perfected and loved to use around Harry, but instead like a bark, and much louder.

"It's just that…I really missed you," Harry said in a small voice. "You never told me anything in your letters."

"Well, I really _couldn't_ write anything important, don't you know," Snape snapped, feeling irritated. "Don't you know there's a war on? Has it never occurred to you that an owl might be intercepted, and the Dark Lord's supporters could get their hands on information that should be kept highly classified? Do you not realize the importance of protecting against loose talk? Or does that not matter to you? Is your happiness more important than winning this war?"

And for the first time, Harry looked more like Lily to Snape than like James. Snape had seen that look before—it was the same look Lily had given him after he'd called her a Mudblood. It reflected shock and a feeling of betrayal as well, but most of all it was hurt. Snape felt a horrible guilty feeling bubbling inside of him.

"I-I'm sorry, Sirius," said Harry, his voice breaking.

Snape realized then that perhaps Sirius had never yelled at Harry before. But what was Snape supposed to do now? To be honest, he really didn't know that much about Sirius, so he didn't know what Sirius would do. He didn't have to hug Harry or anything, did he? Sure, fourteen years ago he had sworn to protect Lily's son, but getting chummy with him was asking too much!

"Just…just go," Snape said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen with one hand and covering up his face with the other. "And no dessert after dinner for you."

"Okay," said Harry bleakly as he walked into the kitchen. "I'm going to go apologize to Ron and Hermione."

Well… _that_ was a new one. There wasn't any resentment or fury here like when Snape gave Harry detention; Harry accepted _Sirius's_ punishment without question. Maybe he listened to his godfather.

Snape was actually feeling hungry, and he did know that Mrs. Weasley was a good cook. So he filed into the kitchen with everyone else. Harry was apologizing to Ron and Hermione, neither of whom looked angry, just relieved, perhaps, that he wasn't yelling at them. While dinner was being prepared, Harry sat down again next to Snape, who groaned internally.

"I'm sorry again, Sirius," he said.

"That's all right," grunted Snape, who just wanted dinner to be over. _Only three more weeks of this nonsense_ , he thought. Then he would have the manor all to himself until Christmas. It would be great. In the meantime, though, Snape was still wondering what he was supposed to _do_. What was a godfather's job? He made a mental note to Floo Sirius later and ask.

"Sirius?" grunted Mundungus Fletcher, who was holding a silver goblet. "This solid silver, mate?"

"How am I supposed to—oh, um, why, yes, it is," said Snape proudly. "My family had lots of it."

Harry gave Snape-as-Sirius a weird look. Snape shrugged and tried to think of something godfatherly to say, but his mind went infuriatingly blank.

"I'm not worried about Ron, you know," Harry suddenly said in a quieter voice. "He told me he's still going out with Luna—and besides, who could ever possibly see Ron and Hermione together anyway? But I'm definitely worried about Krum."

"What are you on about?" snapped Snape.

"Because! Don't you remember?" said Harry. "Last year, he asked Hermione to the Yule Ball before I did! Ron brought Luna, and since Krum had asked Hermione, I brought Parvati Patil."

Oh no. Harry didn't talk to Sirius about _girls_ , did he? Hopefully not, because if he did, Snape probably wouldn't have much appetite for dinner.

"Parvati was really annoyed, but all I could do was think of Hermione…" Harry sighed dreamily, and Snape was forcibly reminded of that horrible James Potter staring at his Lily. "You know what I mean, Sirius?"

"Uhh…" Snape didn't know what to say. "Yes, um…yes, I-I do…?"

"Hello!" said Harry, slamming his hands on the table suddenly. "You _totally_ freaked out, remember?"

"What? I did?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Right before the Yule Ball I contacted you in the Floo all in a panic and you thought something had happened with Karkaroff and Crouch."

"Well, Harry," Snape replied, trying to hide a combination of irritation and disgust, "that may be because when you contact your godfather in a panic, he assumes that you have something important to tell him."

"Wha—this _is_ important!" said Harry indignantly.

"Tha's right, mate," said Mundungus. "Better let 'er know now. Get some shaggin' in before term starts."

"Harry will be doing nothing of the sort!" Snape told Mundungus, resisting the urge to vomit in his mouth. "By the way, Harry…where are the students copulating nowadays? I'm sure they've found some quite clever hiding spots where the teachers can't find them, haven't they?"

 _This should be good_ , thought Snape. _I'll have those horny brats in detention quicker than they can say 'teenage hormones'!_

"What does 'copulating' mean?" said Harry, giving Snape another weird look.

"It means _sex_ —oh, grow up, Mundungus!" snapped Snape, as Mundungus Fletcher snorted with laughter. "Where are the students doing this?"

"Oh…I don't know," said Harry thoughtfully. "I-I think maybe the library…? Or the supply closets? I mean, it's not like _I'm_ one of them, so how would I know?"

Snape shrugged, but now he at least knew to prowl the library after hours. Students probably just stuck to doing it in their dorms, after all. Boys weren't allowed in the girls' dorms, but the reverse was not true, which was probably a big mistake on the founders' part.

At that point Snape felt something brush against his legs and looked down; it was Hermione's cat. Right now, he couldn't remember the cat's name, but he did remember it from the Shrieking Shack, years ago. To his unpleasant surprise, the cat hissed, let out a loud, yowling meow, and pounced.

"CROOKSHANKS, NO!" shrieked Hermione, rushing towards them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.

Snape was trying to pull Crookshanks off, but the cat was clawing at his face. With an enormous effort from both Hermione and Harry, Snape was finally free. Hermione and Harry looked bewildered.

"It's so strange," said Harry. "Crookshanks has never gone after anyone like that before—well, except Scabbers."

"And that was only because Scabbers was an impostor," added Hermione. "It's weird. They were getting along fine this morning. You and Sirius are friends, aren't you, Crookshanks?"

Crookshanks hissed as if to say, _You're not Sirius_.

Snape was beginning to feel nervous, even as his face stung and bled slightly from the cat's claws; he made another mental note to steer clear of Hermione during his life-swap with Sirius (and when he Flooed Sirius, he would tell him the same thing). If anyone was going to call their bluff, it would be Hermione Granger, Girl Genius, the cleverest witch of her age.

Overall, the dinner wasn't really that pleasant for Snape. Harry seemed quite glad to see him, which was a first. The food was the only thing Snape really enjoyed (usually he had to eat his own bland cooking over the summer) so he tried to focus on that, but Harry was talking again.

"You know, it was weird how you said the 'Dark Lord' earlier," Harry mused. "I've only ever heard his supporters call him that."

Snape froze; he was still trying to act like Sirius, but he had forgotten himself back then…Of course Sirius would never say that…Most witches and wizards didn't say the Dark Lord's name out of fear. The Death Eaters refrained from saying it out of respect. Snape mostly just said "Dark Lord" out of habit, but still, he felt that saying the name would make him dread the meetings a bit more. Well, at least he wouldn't have to see the Dark Lord until after he and Sirius switched back on Christmas. As long as Sirius studied Occlumency well enough…but as much as Snape hated to admit it, Sirius had been good at school. Hopefully this would extend to his Occlumency skills.

"Heh, yeah, what was I thinking?" said Snape, trying to act casual, like Sirius might. What he had just realized was that he was going to have to say the name now. Sirius _did_ say the name; Snape had heard him do so in Order meetings. "It's easy to say his name."

"You, Remus, and Dumbledore and I are the only people who say it," said Harry.

"Correct," said Snape, now feeling highly uncomfortable.

After dinner, Snape watched Mrs. Weasley ferry all the minors off to bed, then told everyone he needed an early night himself. When he had Apparated upstairs, he changed into some pajamas in Sirius's wardrobe, then headed into Regulus's room for bedtime. It had been a very strange evening.


	5. Godparents, Occlumency and Chili Dogs

Several days later, Sirius was sitting in Snape's library, reading a thick book on Occlumency; he had studied it every day so far since switching lives with Snape. It was heavy stuff, and it wasn't easy…but then, he knew what was at stake. How long had it taken Snape to become an Occlumens, anyway? How long would it take _Sirius_ to become one?

Sirius's work was interrupted by someone shouting his name—in a voice he recognized as his own.

"Snape?" he said, looking towards the fire, where his own head was sitting.

"The very same," said Snape-as-Sirius, glaring. "Listen, I have something to ask you."

"I was studying Occlumency," Sirius-as-Snape told him, irritated. "You interrupted me."

"Ah! Not so easy, is it?" Snape looked triumphant. "Anyway, you can take a break for a moment. Come over here."

Sirius groaned exaggeratedly and sat down on the hearthrug. "FINE! What is it?"

"Well…ever since I've taken on your appearance, I was wondering something," said Snape. "What exactly is your job as Harry Potter's godfather?"

"My job?" said Sirius, confused.

"Yes! What does being a godfather entail? What do you _do?"_

"Oh," said Sirius, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Well…put it this way. Harry hasn't got a father anymore. But he _has_ got me—or, well, he's got you."

"What do you mean by that?" said Snape, his eyebrows contracting.

"I mean that everything that was once James's responsibility is now mine," Sirius replied. "But I don't see it as a job. I'm happy to play that part in Harry's life. In fact, in many ways he's sort of like the son I never had."

"It's a bit too soon after lunch for me to vomit," said Snape, who truly was looking disgusted. "You know I hate kids!"

"Harry's _not_ a little kid anymore," said Sirius.

"Well, teenagers are even worse!" Snape said back. "And now you're saying I have to be some kind of… _substitute parent_ to one?"

"That's right," said Sirius, "and you knew what you were getting into when you switched lives with me. That's what your job as Harry's godfather is—to be there when he needs you, just like James would have been if he was alive. That's not such a tall order."

"Yes, it is!" Snape barked. "You may be blind to his flaws, Black, but I am not!"

"Fine!" Sirius snapped. "If you think looking after Harry is so hard, I can come right over there and we can switch back. Where do you keep the antidote?"

"I haven't got any antidote," Snape informed him testily.

"What do you mean you haven't got any antidote?!"

"Which word don't you understand?" Snape said coldly. "There is no antidote in that house. Why would there be? I was under the impression that we weren't changing back until Christmas."

"Whatever!" said Sirius. "Just _make_ some antidote, then!"

"It doesn't work that way, Black," said Snape. "I don't have the ingredients on hand in that house, so you'd have to wait until you get to Hogwarts to make it, and even then, the antidote takes two months to brew."

"Aren't there any shops that sell it?"

"I invented this antidote," said Snape, "so I'm the only one who knows how to make it."

"So you mean we're stuck like this?!" Sirius cried, panicking.

"I'm afraid so," Snape told him calmly. "Term will start in a little over two weeks. I will give you instructions on how to make the potion then."

"Fine," Sirius groaned. "But anyway, Snape, you have to promise me that you can look after Harry, even if it kills you."

"Except it _will_ kill me, probably," said Snape. "Did you know that he ordered his post owl to peck you? From what I have observed, he has an extremely short temper—he even yells at his two closest friends."

"Well, he's been through something very traumatic," said Sirius. "You should be a bit more sympathetic to him. You're supposed to be his godfather until Christmas, so you have to humor him. In fact, he needs you now more than ever. It's not hard for me to accept Harry's flaws because I realize that his flaws are a part of who he is, and I love him for who he is. Besides, he's never yelled at me."

"True." Snape frowned. "In fact, he's actually remarkably calm when I'm around—well, as you, that is…"

"Harry knows he can always come to me no matter what," said Sirius serenely.

"Uh-huh," said Snape, still frowning. "I guess I'll have to get used to that."

"But looking after Harry isn't nearly as hard as this Occlumency shit," Sirius grouched, gesturing towards the abandoned book on the chair.

"You'd better study it, or the Dark Lord will kill you," Snape replied. "Just some pointers—try not to make eye contact with him, because eye contact is often necessary for Legilimency. Try to empty your mind when you come to meetings—and third, you _must_ try Narcissa Malfoy's chili dogs."

"Nice try, Snivellus," Sirius said angrily. "But Narcissa is my cousin, remember? I've had those chili dogs before—and I'd rather not spend three hours in the bathroom, thank you very much."

"Damn," Snape muttered.

"However…" Sirius suddenly grinned. "That's exactly the sort of prank I would try to play on you. Looks like you're already getting the hang of acting like me."

Snape paused, gave Sirius the weirdest look yet, and said wonderingly, "You don't know how weird it is for me to see myself grinning like that."


End file.
